Trapped Angel
by JinxWings
Summary: The X-Men go to Washington to protest the Mutant Registration Act. Chaos follows. Original five, sort of First Class-ish, more modern AU.
1. Chapter 1

A/N: Sorry about Hank (or the lack thereof). I'm still not really confident writing him. Please read and review!

* * *

Warren's wings were growing sore. Whenever he was out in public he had to keep them bound, to stay safe. Mutants weren't exactly liked by the general populace. Populace. When did he start using words like that? Hank must be rubbing off on him.

Warren shifted in his seat, wincing as he did so. Airplane seats were not built with winged persons in mind. And speaking of air planes, this was taking too long. He could have flown there in 20 minutes, but noooo, he had to take an hour and a half long flight to DC to "keep up appearances", as the Professor had so eloquently put it. They couldn't even take the blackbird! This sucked, and Warren knew he wasn't the only one who felt that way. Across the aisle he could see Bobby freezing and unfreezing his complimentary orange juice while silently tapping his feet on the back of Scott's seat. It appeared to be to the tune of the national anthem, though Warren couldn't be sure. Scott didn't seem to notice.

They were going to Washington to watch the Professor testify before Congress regarding the Mutant Registration Act Senator Kelly was trying to push through. Of course, they would be going as human observers. It wouldn't bode well for them if their identities as X-men were revealed to the public during a time such as this.

Warren adjusted his wing straps under his jacket. He really, really hated the restraints. They hurt, and they reminded him too much of the days before he came to the mansion, when he had to keep his wings literally and figuratively under wraps at all times, lest his father yell at him, or worse, while his mother stood by and did nothing-

"Warren!" A familiar voice interrupted his thoughts. Warren looked up, startled to see a happy looking Bobby poking his shoulder. "We're here!" Warren looked out the window to see that that was indeed the case. The clouds in the sky were a dark grey, and a sense of foreboding hung in the air. It was as if the weather had planned perfectly for their arrival.

"Finally," Warren complained. "That flight took forever."

"Yeah, not exactly Blackbird speed, was it?" commented Jean, taking off her headphones. "I still don't get why Prof. wouldn't let us take it."

"Nothing like a black stealth plane landing in a civilian airport near a largely populated city to deflect suspicion," said Scott.

"Did I just hear what I think I heard? Did Scott Summers just make…a joke?" quipped Bobby loudly, causing a few older folks around them to glare.

"Oh no, his reputation is ruined!" Warren laughed. "Now we know he actually has a personality!"

"Hah, hah, guys. Let's go get our bags," said Scott. He was trying to be serious, but Warren could his lips quirking in a slight smile.

* * *

Their hotel was near the National Mall, in downtown DC. Their rooms were on the fifth floor, all offering a view of the Capitol Building. Bobby, Hank, and Scott were all sharing a room while Warren and Jean each got their own. After everyone put their bags down and settled in, they all met in Jean's room.

"What I don't understand," began Bobby as soon as they all had arrived, "Is why he," at this point he pointed at Warren, "gets a whole room to himself, and I'm stuck with these guys," motioning at Hank and Scott, "in one room!"

"We love you too, Bobby," muttered Scott.

"Tell you what," said Warren. "When you grow thirteen-foot-long wings, you can get your own room too."

"Hmph," went Bobby, flopping down into a chair.

"Perhaps we should find an establishment where we could consume foodstuffs," Hank suggested. They all stared at him blankly.

"Let's get dinner," he tried again, rolling his eyes.

"Should've just led with that," said Bobby, joyfully leaping up and grabbing his coat. Warren had to agree with him. Sometimes Hank could be a bit too intellectual. Warren was glad he had brought up food however, he hadn't eaten anything since breakfast. He'd been too busy packing and helping Hank bring everyone's luggage out to his car. While Professor Xavier had arranged transportation from the Westchester airport to DC, as well as accommodations in the city, he has neglected to inform them of how, exactly, they were getting to the airport. Thus, began the saga of everyone packing into Warren's convertible for the drive. Luckily it wasn't far, and Jean used her telekinesis to keep the luggage from falling out of the trunk. It had seemed to work pretty well.


	2. Chapter 2

**A/N: Sorry this took so long to update. I don't really have an excuse. Have a virtual apology cookie? **

_Warren POV_

"I think there's a pizza place nearby," said Jean. She and Scott were looking at her phone, trying to figure out where they were going to go eat. Bobby was looking at all the brochures the hotel lobby had on display, while Hank and Warren looked on in amusement.

"That sounds good," said Warren distractedly. He was too busy watching Bobby rearrange all of the pamphlets in rainbow order. Who knew why. It was Bobby, after all. He had never seemed to really grow out of the whole fooling around though. But Warren wasn't Scott. He wasn't going to call him out on it. Speaking of which…

"Bobby, stop messing with those," said Scott right on cue. "Come on, guys. The restaurant is only a couple of blocks away." And with that he walked out the door, holding it open for Jean.

"What a gentleman," she said, rolling her eyes. She took the door from him and held it open for the rest of the guys, leaving a slightly confused Scott Summers in her wake.

"What did I do wrong?" he whispered to Warren. Warren smiled. Good. Romantic advice. This was something he could do.

"Girls don't appreciate being waited on. This isn't 1963. They just want to be treated normally," explained Warren.

"I don't think I even know what normal is anymore," Scott muttered.

"I couldn't agree more!" said Bobby cheerfully, clapping a hand on each of their shoulders. Warren winced. His wings were painful after a full day in the harness. Bobby mouthed a _sorry_ and took his hand back.

"Which is why we are getting pizza. As friends. Like normal teenagers. Which we totally are," Bobby continued. Right. Pizza. Friends. He should be focusing on having fun. Warren was just about to respond when he heard Jean start to speak.

"Hey, is that…?" Jean began, peering across the street. "It is! Wanda!" Waving her arms up and down, Jean shouted "Wanda, over here!"

The auburn-haired teenager looked up, confused at first but quickly broke into a grin when she saw who it was.

"Hey! I haven't seen you guys in forever!" she called, crossing the street in-between cars. The girl otherwise known as the Scarlet Witch was wearing hot pink combat boots along with a red skirt and hoodie, keeping in line with her signature color. Warren noted that her accent had become less noticeable since the last time he had talked to her. "What are you doing here?"

"Currently?" responded Jean. "Getting pizza. Want to join?"

"I would love to!" Wanda said excitedly, before continuing. "Our plane doesn't leave for New York until ten, so I'm free until then. You're sure it's okay if I join you?" She shifted her gaze to include the rest of the X-men.

"Of course it is," said Hank. "You're always welcome to join us." Wanda smiled gratefully.

"I should probably text Pietro, tell him where I am," said Wanda, taking out her phone.

"Nonsense," scoffed Jean, wrapping an arm around Wanda's shoulder while plucking her phone out of her hands. "Your brother will have to live without knowing where you are for a few hours. If he protests, just tell him you thought he'd enjoy the mystery. Now let's get pizza, I'm starving."

_Bobby POV_

"I want pepperoni," stated Bobby. They had been arguing over what to get for the past twenty minutes.

"Bobby, I thought you were vegetarian?" questioned Scott.

"Yeah, that lasted about two weeks," said Bobby. A couple of months ago the team had fought an evil mutant near a meat packaging facility. The man could amplify other people's senses, including smell, and afterwards Bobby wanted nothing to do with meat. Until he remembered how could bacon tasted. Vegetarianism was **so **not for him.

"So," continued Bobby. "Pepperoni?"

"I still think we should get mushrooms," said Warren.

"Mushrooms are gross, Warren," said Bobby primly. "They don't deserve to populate something as heavenly as pizza."

"What about pineapp-" started Hank.

"Henry, if you value your life don't even think about finishing that sentence." Bobby internally sighed. Even if he was a genius, sometimes his best friend could be kind of an idiot.

"But pineap-"

"Sorry, Hank," said Scott. "You're out voted." The rest of the table nodded along, as they should. Pineapple and pizza do not go together whatsoever.

"Are you ready to order?" asked their waiter from behind them. He looked to be in high school, obviously working a summer job. He was wearing ripped jeans, and a T-shirt of the restaurant that hugged his muscles. His name tag read 'Hi! I'm Jackson!' and all Bobby could think was 'God, he's hot.' Of course, Bobby had to be the one sitting closest to him and thus the person supposed to do the ordering.

Jean saved him from his inability to function by ordering in his stead.

"We'll have three large pies, one cheese, one pepperoni," Bobby silently cheered, "and one mushroom." That earned Jean a glare from Bobby and a smile from Warren. _What? _she mouthed. _I like mushrooms._

"Great," said cute waiter guy. Jackson, Bobby reminded himself. His name is Jackson. Jackson jotted down their orders in his notebook. "Anything to drink?"

"W-water is fine, thanks," said Bobby, having finally found his voice.

"I'll be right back with those," said Jackson. Bobby flushed.

"Someone's got a crush," smiled Jean, nudging Bobby with her foot.

"Umm," said Bobby eloquently, giving a sheepish smile.

"He's cute," admitted Wanda. "You picked a good one."

"So Wanda what are doing in DC?" blurted Bobby, wanting desperately to change to subject as Jackson came back with their waters. He must have noticed Bobby staring at him, because he left with a wink, leaving Bobby even redder than before. Wanda, being the glorious mutant being that she is, ignored it and answered his question.

"Cap got a call from an old friend in the area. He was worried someone was going to attack the protests going on over the mutant registration act. Turns out he was right. Some mutant chef guy ambushed one of the protests the other day. He had some sort of sensory powers. I don't think he even cared about the mutant registration issue. He was aiming for the police, trying to free their dogs. He was honestly kind of easy to defeat. Pietro just sped up to him, caught him off-guard, and knocked him out. Our plane had to refuel, so we stayed in DC today.

"We fought the same guy a couple of months ago," said Scott. "He's some sort of vegetarian animal activist chef. He calls himself the Culinary Critter Crusader, he can increase other people senses. He's not very good at using his powers." Bobby smiled, remembering the 'battle' at the meat processing plant. He began to contribute to the retelling.

"We had gotten an alert on Cerebro about a mutant in the area, so we go to investigate, and when we show up..."

The pizza had been delicious. Between the six of them they had eaten all three pies, and Warren was currently filling out the check. Scott and Hank were arguing over the tip.

"It was great seeing you guys," said Wanda, starting to get up. "I have to go, but we should do this again soon!"

"Bye Wanda!" chorused Jean and Bobby. Bobby had forgotten how fun Wanda was to hang out with. Too bad her brother was so over-protective.

As they were getting up to leave, the cute waiter, Jackson, came to collect their plates. Bobby felt a piece of paper fall into his lap. As he unfolded it, he saw Jackson walk away out of the corner of his eye.

_My shift ends in an hour, and there's a great ice cream place on fifth avenue. Wanna go? -Jackson_

The note also gave Jackson's phone number. Bobby grinned as he plugged it into his own phone. He had a date!

**A/N: Thank you for actually reading this! I plan on having about three more chapters. Maybe more if it's necessary. The POV will alternate mainly between Bobby and Warren, as they're my favorites. Happy New Year!**


	3. Chapter 3

Warren_ POV_

As soon as the team (minus Bobby, he had snuck off to who-knows-where,) got back to the hotel, Warren went up to his room feigning exhaustion. In reality, he just needed to get away. His wings and shoulders were hurting like _hell_, and if he didn't get the damn harness of right this second and why were the lights so dim and the walls were so so so close together and- _Stay calm, _Warren told himself. _Breathe. Breathe. _He walked up to his room, forcing himself to take it slow. He closed the door, locking it behind him, before unzipping his jacket and carefully taking off his shirt. One by one he undid the harness straps, breathing a sigh of relief after the harness was on the floor. However, his joyousness was quickly put to sleep when he realized that he could only stretch out to roughly half their full span in the small confines of the hotel room. After a quick internal debate, he decided that he cared more about stretching out his wings than following Scott's directions of keeping their powers out of sight. Screw him, he didn't have two extra appendages that had been forced under wraps all day. He put on his flight suit, throwing on a leather jacket with slits in the back as an afterthought. It had gotten colder in the past hour.

Opening up the window, Warren took stock of the street below him. The room was five stories up, so any light from the streetlamps didn't reach him. A few cars were driving around, but barely any people were walking around, which was good. Fewer people meant less chance of him being seen. Taking a deep breath, Warren flung himself out the window and started flapping his wings. It felt good to be flying again.

_Bobby POV_

Having left the rest of the group back at the hotel, Bobby was now seated on a nearby park bench working on a miniature ice sculpture to pass the time. Normally he'd worry about using his powers in public like this, but the thing was literally 5 inches tall. Plus, it dark out. No one would notice.

Glancing at his phone to check the time, Bobby realized that he didn't actually know where he was meeting Jackson. He didn't remember seeing an ice cream shop when they had been walking around the city earlier. That in of itself was kind of surprising, Bobby prided himself on being able to find ice cream in every town he visited. Seeing what time it was, Bobby decided that Jackson was probably done with his shift and it would be safe to text him.

_Hey, it's Bobby. I dont mean to sound like a _

_total tourist, but where are we meeting? _

_Oh, crap. I forgot to tell you my name _

_earlier. It's the guy from the restaurant?_

_Although you had probably figured that out _

_already. _

_Woops. _

Crap. Bobby would be the first one to admit that he is horrible at texting, but this was bad. Hank texting bad.

**_Hey, it's good! The shop's two blocks west_**

**_of the restaurant. It's like, the best ice cream _**

**_place in town. _**

_Oh, yeah. I found it in google maps. I guess _

_im not completely incompetent after all? _

**_You never were. See you there in ten?_**

_Yup! Seeya!_

Was that too much? It was probably too much. Hopefully he hadn't scared him away.

_Warren POV_

If there was one thing Warren had learned from having wings was that all everything looked better from above. Especially cities. Especially at night. The lights made everything ten thousand times more beautiful, illuminating the darkness below him. And as an added bonus, people were less likely to look upwards at night, and he didn't have any geese to contend with.

Washington DC didn't have the largest buildings, so Warren tried to stay in the shadow of clouds, which there were a lot of that night. Warren swooped down towards one of the building near his hotel, before coming to a stop a few meters above it. Taking out his phone, he snapped a photo of the Washington Monument, which was lit up a brilliant white by lights at its base. _Sweet_, thought Warren. He'd been getting into photography lately.

Warren reached down to put his phone away, but as he did so he felt a sharp pain in one of his wings. _What the…? _His thoughts started clouding, and his phone slipped out of his fingers. Everything went black as he fell to the ground.

_Bobby POV_

"And when he stepped out the door, he got _completely _pelted by snowballs. It was great."

"Your friends sound awesome," Jackson said, smiling.

"Yeah, they're pretty cool," said Bobby. He didn't know why he had been so nervous; the date was going amazingly. The ice cream was delicious, Jackson was hilarious, and Scott hadn't even sent him one text inquiring his whereabouts! It was terrific!

"So you go to a private school?" asked Jackson.

"Yup. It's…kinda a gifted and talented sort of place. I don't know why I'm there, to be honest," said Bobby. "You?"

"Just public school for me. But I like my classes, so it's good. Hey, how come my ice cream is melting but yours isn't?"

"Ice cream just likes me," said Bobby. "I can't help it."

"Heh."

"Hey, I think your phone's ringing," Bobby said as beeping sound started going off. Jackson pulled out his phone, checking the screen.

"Ah, crap. I got to take this, sorry," he said, and apologetic look on his face.

"It's okay, take your time," said Bobby.

Jackson stepped away for a second, listening to his phone. He sighed, clearly annoyed at whoever was on the phone. "I'm so sorry, this is going to take more than a few minutes," he said to Bobby, covering the phone with his hand.

"It's okay, it happens," said Bobby. "I'll text you tomorrow?"

"That would be amazing. Catch you later!" Crap. Should he respond with finger guns, or no finger guns. Which would be the best way to casually say goodbye while implying that he has a good time.

"See you soon, racoon!" he said. Maximum cheese factor, yet no finger guns. He had forgotten he was holding ice cream.

* * *

Jackson watched Bobby walk away, making sure he was out of hearing range before turning back to his phone.

"He gone?"

"Yeah, he's gone."

"Good. We don't want any interference."

"Don't worry, he seems like kind of an idiot. He doesn't suspect anything. But I have a feeling we're not going to be able to avoid direct conflict with them we did kidn-"

"We did _not _kidnap the boy. Kidnapping is what happens to humans. To people. Make no mistake, these…_demons _are not people. Clear?"

"Crystal. I agree wholeheartedly."

"Good. And as for the friends, we'll deal with that when we get there. Were you able to confirm if he and the other students are mutants as well?"

"Not directly, but everything adds up. He almost had me fooled for a second, being so… naïve. But no, he is definitely a mutant.

"Good. Come back to the center, so we can talk more in depth."

"I'll be these soon."

Putting his phone away, Jackson scowled in the direction where Bobby had gone.

"Rotten muties."


End file.
